Superman Twins
by Dean'sNerdyAngel
Summary: In the first meteor shower of Smallville, Kansas, there is not just one hope for the world. EDITED.


Jonathan blinked his eyes several times. When the visions of the babies had not vanished he rubbed them. One of the babies was wide awake. Apparently, this little cute thing wearing blue pajamas and hat was what had been crying. Trails of tears ran down the sides of its chubby face from hazel colored eyes. It's little hand reached towards him.

And yesterday's events came flooding back. The babies looked normal enough, not that Jonathan saw a lot of babies that often. Martha, being Martha, estimated the babies around 6 weeks old, no less.

"Hello, Clark," Jonathan said to the baby that was awake, using the name they had decided on last night. The one that was asleep was Connor.

The baby cooed.

"I don't suppose you can tell me where you came from, with that spaceship and everything?" Jonathan asked.

The baby cooed again.

"Where's your…parents?" Jonathan asked.

Another coo.

"My name is Jonathan. What's yours?" Jonathan asked.

Another coo. Clark sneezed and wriggled, accidentally kicking his brother. Praying that Connor did not wake, Jonathan picked up the little boy and rocked him as he'd seen Martha do. "Shh, you don't want me to get into trouble with your mother, do you?" He whispered to Clark, who stared at him with half open eyes.

Finally, once Clark had drifted to sleep once again, he placed him down beside his brother, yawning and rubbing his eyes.

_Something tells me that this isn't going to be the first time that I'm woken up. _

The next day, Martha awoke, to her disappointment, one side of the bed empty. Jonathan must've already headed out to do chores. She heard gurgling and saw Connor waving his arms about, as if asking for attention.

Martha smiled and picked up the struggling baby to her chest. He sighed in content and gripped her shirt with his tiny hand. Using her free hand, Martha carefully picked up Clark, making him stir in his sleep, grunting in distress. She held her breath, praying he would not erupt in wails. Thankfully, he went quiet again.

Carrying two babies around hopefully got easier, Martha thought to herself as she made her way down stairs. She placed them on a soft, cushiony blanket on the floor of the living room, between the couch and fireplace. From what she knew about children, they couldn't crawl, or even roll, depending on if her estimated age was right.

With both babies somewhat protected and comfortable, Martha began to cook breakfast for she and Jonathan; a selection of eggs, bacon, and toast. Then, she got the recipe she'd written down. Late last night, Martha had looked up on the computer homemade baby formula, and with Martha's lengthy supplies of cooking materials had luckily left her prepared for making the baby's food.

Looking through Jonathan's baby things, she was relieved to find a selection of glass bottles. There were only a few, and out of the dozen, over half were broken. But two were good enough until Martha could go to the store, which was hopefully around lunch when Jonathan agreed to stay in for an hour while Martha went into town. _How _she was going to face the people there was a different story. She knew that the store was open; the meteors had left that part of town unscathed.

But not the people. Not only many of them had to be devastated about the disaster, but Martha, who couldn't get pregnant, and everyone knew it, buying an abundant amount of baby things was sure to be brought up. Chewing her lip, her mind rolled over horrible scenarios of people shouting, "You found aliens! We have to tell the government!"

_They will never get their hands on my babies. They're mine._

"My babies," Martha said quietly to herself, smiling, her heart fluttering in excitement. No more doubts. No more fears. The babies were hers, and no one, government or not, would take them away.

"Hey, everybody! Breakfast ready? Smells like it," Jonathan greeted, kissing his wife on the cheek. He went in the living room and, as Martha watched in amusement and love, kneeled down in front of the babies and tickled their stomachs, making them kick and flail, but they gurgled in glee.

"Can you set the table, Jon? I have to finish making the baby's food," Martha asked her husband as she hooked up a blender to outlet on the counter.

"Sure," Jonathan opened a cupboard and took 2 plates, forks, and cups. He placed them next to each other on the dining table as Martha blended the baby formula, then pouring it into the now clean baby bottles, then putting them in the microwave oven.

Jonathan took the plates of eggs and bacon to the table, and Martha quickly cut up some apples and oranges and put them on a plate, and the couple sat down to eat. Martha, Jonathan noticed, kept glancing at the babies.

"I expected a lot more crying," Jonathan commented.

"Oh, I'm sure they're just warming up to us. Sooner or later, they'll unleash their cries." Martha joked lightly.

Jonathan chuckled. He hadn't seen Martha this happy in a long while. "You know, Martha, you can go to the store now. I guarantee that there's not a lot of people there this early."

"What am I supposed to say to people when they see me buy all these baby supplies?" Martha asked, biting her lip again. It was a habit of hers.

"Say you just adopted twins. We were planning to announce it yesterday, when we picked them up form Metropolis, but the meteor shower obviously postponed that. We didn't tell anyone earlier just in case it didn't work out." Jonathan said, content with his story.

"That sounds believable." Martha nodded. "All right, the formula's ready, so I'll feed one and you feed one, and then I'll leave. After they feed, they _should _sleep, so you can do the dishes and do whatever you need to do in-"

"Of course I'm not planning to leave the house." Jonathan thought, horrified at the thought.

"Right, I knew that, honey," Martha smiled assuredly, getting up from the table and getting the formula from the microwave, testing the temperature on her wrist. "All right, here."

Jonathan stared at the bottle in his hands. "What if he doesn't eat it?"

"He will. I'd feed Clark, if you want a calmer encounter. Connor gets pretty greedy." Martha said, sitting down on the couch with Connor in her arms, who seemed to know that food was near, reaching toward the bottle, and he greedily began drinking the bottle.

"Here it is," Jonathan whispers reassuringly after he settled himself on the couch with Clark, who seemed pretty dead set on sleeping. "Come on now, Clark, open up."

Clark opened his eyes and felt the nipple of the bottle on his lips and he wrinkled his nose, turning his head away, grunting.

"Keep trying, Jonathan. He did that last night, too. He's just not used to it," Martha said to him.

Nodding, Jonathan put the nipple to his lips, and Clark took it right away this time, and began sucking. Satisfied, Jonathan adjusted his position, and then his gaze landed on Clark's cloth diaper. "Wait a second. What do I do when he needs a diaper change?"

"Well, you _could _wait until I get home, therefore causing him to cry, which leads to the other to cry, and your eardrums burst. Or, you can suck up your manly issues with diaper changing and wipe his bottom, and put on a fresh cloth diaper." Martha said to him.

"Both of those options do not sound pleasant." He winced.

Martha laughed as Connor pushed the bottle away with his tiny hand. Martha pulled the bottle away, placing it on the coffee table. "After he's finished, you have burp him."

"Burp him?"

"Yes. Here, watch, its easy," Martha put on a small washcloth on her shoulder and brought Connor to her shoulder, patting his back.

Jonathan was so absorbed watching Connor and Martha that he forgot about Clark. The baby seemed to realize that his father's attention wasn't on him, and he began to cry. "Oh, boy," Jonathan groaned.

"I think he's done. Try burping him," Martha said as she settled Connor on the crook of her arm.

Jonathan winced as Clark's face got close to his ear, his cries loud and piercing. Once Jonathan began gently patting Clark's back, his cries began to die down. 15 minutes later, as Jonathan looked at his wife now holding the twins, something clicked in Jonathan's heart. These babies weren't going anywhere, not on he and Martha's watch.

* * *

><p><strong>1 MONTH LATER: November 23rd<strong>

"I really don't think it's a good idea, Jonathan," Martha told her husband. "They've only been here a month or so. Throwing them into a new environment can't be good for them."

"If we go, you get a break. My mom can take over with them, even your sister." Jonathan told his wife.

Martha chuckled. "I doubt that. She has a 3 and 6 year old."

"I know you want to."

"I do, but-"

"They're not going to ask the wrong questions. Remember the reply we got when we sent out a picture to my mom and your sister? They were thrilled to hear it. This is no different. We stick with our adoption story."

"Two days? What about the farm?" Martha asked.

"Bill Ross would love to take over. Since he lost…the factory," Jonathan pushed out the words. "he's been itching for some work,"

Martha groaned inwardly and glanced at the 2 month old babies, who were sitting upright in their play pen, picking up toy after toy as their attention averted. Occasionally, one would decide that it was okay to throw it at the other, and although he would give an annoyed squeal, they didn't cry.

"All right."

The next morning was cold and windy. The twins were sleepy throughout breakfast, barely noticing as Martha dressed them. Clark was dressed in a red footie outfit, while Connor was dressed in a dark blue one. Since it was colder than usual outside, they also put on matching hats.

They were still very small, but Martha had read that because they were twins, it was normal for the babies to be smaller and underweight for the first few months. In the past month, they were also becoming more and more talkative, and not just crying. They babbled and cooed and gurgled, examining their hands as they sucked on fingers and when laid down, kicking and flailing, as if trying to roll over. When helped, they could sit up for short periods of time, if not wobbly.

Jonathan's favorite part was face imitation. A lot of times, Jonathan would make funny faces and seeing them try to copy Jonathan's face made their day. They slept through the night most days, minus a few diaper changes or out of routine feeding.

Once the dishes were done, Martha wrapped the babies in light blankets, and placed Clark and Connor in the baby carriers, strapping them in. Clark had a toy cow he was gripping tightly and not letting go, happily sucking on it. Connor had a rattle, and shook it every now and then. Satisfied the babies were entertained as they prepared to go, Martha bustled around, making sure everything was set for them to leave for 3 days. Diaper bags were packed with clothes, diapers, toys, and bottles. They weren't thrilled with the 6 hour train ride, but it was better than double the car ride.

3 hours later, the Kents were about an hour and a half into the train ride. In the "booth" of the train, the carriers were settled in the seat and Martha and Jonathan, when they became restless, would use a foot to reach out and rock the carriers. But they knew that eventually, one would get bored with sitting and begin crying. The new parents had no idea what the babies would act like being around so much people. The train was crowded, filled with men, women and children of all types. Businessmen and women, other families, and some with clothes that screamed, "Money is everything, and I love it."

Throughout out the hours, the parents were always on their toes, when one cried of a dirty diaper or just being bored of sitting in one place. They played with them, making faces, but trying to keep it quiet as they squealed in laughter.

4 hours into the train ride, an elderly women, hobbling on a cane as she came back with a cup of coffee from the mini-kitchen in the front of the train, tripped in the aisle. In the middle of a peek-a-boo game, both Clark and Connor averted their attention from their parents and looked toward the woman. They got their parents attention, pointing at her, garbling their baby language.

Martha and Jonathan looked and saw that no one was helping her. Frowning, each picking up a baby, went to help her upright. She smiled crookedly and let them help her up from her awkward position on the floor. "Takes a special kind of people to help an old woman these days. Thank you,"

"It's no problem at all. Are you all right?" Jonathan asked, holding Connor back as he reached toward the woman, curious. Martha was doing the same with Clark.

"Oh, I'm fine. I may be old, but not yet as brittle as I should be," she looked to the twins. "Your sons are very cute. Identical twins?"

"Yes, they are. We just adopted them last month." Martha said proudly, hugging Clark to her.

"With parents seemingly good as you, I'm sure they'll turn out just fine."

* * *

><p>The Kent family stood outside of the Evans house. After the long train ride, they were tired and hungry, and Martha and Jonathan were nervous. What if they suspected their lie? What if they found out the truth? The parents had rehearsed the story over and over again, covering each question.<p>

Now that the public of their housing town accepted the twins, now came the most difficult part. The ties between families.


End file.
